The slump in the man's shoulders was about as close as any observer was getting to a display of emotion, but the mix of frustration and mirth in the chuckle that followed was clear enough despite the helmet of the guard. "If Canti was here he'd be free, little miss. The Order took him, and they haven't come out of that little tower of theirs since they stormed in here. Between the strangers seen on grounds last night and the angry bastards out front today, all of the captains are content to sit around and wait for the situation to 'gain clarity.'" He smirked invisibly at the idea, he and every guard on the grounds knew the real reasoning behind their inaction. Nobody wanted to be the first against the Thistle, and nothing made enough sense to warrant action either way. "I don't imagine them offering out audiences when they were ready to kill for custody of the man last night, but they won't have long before someone else takes up the regency anyway."

Feril had elected to stay back from the group, letting them close with the guards at the door. She stood turned mostly away, as if her face was the most identifiable of her features and not the garishly colored jacket. At least the emblem upon the garment was also turned away. She overheard the conversation anyway, noting down the evidence although it meant little to her. The regent, the one they'd come all this way for, was apparently not being housed in the main palace. She supposed that made sense, assuming the Tower of the Thistle had a dungeon all its own. Perhaps a smaller one. That was a scary idea, given the accommodations she'd recently been sprung from.